


He and His Stupid Hopes

by ProtoChan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Broken Bones, Dark, Gen, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Horror, Hurt Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Magic, Master & Servant, Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18668269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoChan/pseuds/ProtoChan
Summary: These heroes must have truly affected Killian. Even when his crocodile literally has his heart in his hands, he can't seem to give up hope. And one evening, that serves to his ever growing detriment. WHUMP!





	He and His Stupid Hopes

**Author's Note:**

> ...Yeah. This is a thing. Read it only if you dare or you don't care. And hell, maybe afterwards, share! ...Sorry for the plug, but I couldn't resist the rhyme.

Of all the sounds that Killian Jones' two hundred year old ears had ever heard, the worst by far was the sound of the bell above Mr. Gold's shop.  
  


Misfortune was always in store for those unfortunate enough to hear its ring.  
  


And right now, that was him.  
  


Killian had tried to stop walking. As the miles turned into blocks and the blocks turned into feet, he placed every bit of his willpower into going off the course of his beaten path.  
  


But it was no use.  
  


The heart wants what the heart wants, after all...or at least it wants what its compelled by its current master to want.  
  


Honestly, Killian was surprised that he had been summoned so soon after his heart had been taken. Hadn't Rumplestiltskin already tortured him enough for one night?  
  


Apparently not.  
  


He had abandoned his apartment in Granny's for the evening so he could put as much distance between himself and the crocodile as he possibly could. It was clearly a stupid hope, but when someone has control of your literal heart, stupid hopes are what you're left with.  
  


Killian had not a doubt in his mind that Gold was all too happy to crush those hopes.  
  


Perhaps that's why he was summoned. Gold was simply impatient to play with his newest toy and couldn't wait for the chance to relish in his victory.  
  


And now, under the cloak of darkness in the dead of night, he could do so unabated.  
  


The ring of the bell was sharp as it closed in on Killian's ear drum. He looked ahead to see Gold staring at him from behind the front counter, grinning that smug little grin of his.  
  


"What do you want, crocodile?" Killian snarled.  
  


The worst thing Gold could do at this moment would be to avoid the question or even just grin wider.  
  


So of course, that's exactly what he did.  
  


"What do you want?" Killian repeated, now shouting. He couldn't help it. His blood has been boiling nonstop since the moment he heard of the crocodile's scheme to destroy Emma and now, the cover of night allowed for him to let it all out.  
  


Gold looked at him. His grin had transformed into a smirk and a chuckle escaped his lips.  
  


Before Killian could snap once more at his captor, a jolt of pain coursed through his body. Immediately, he fell to his knees, unable to do so much as raise his head. Once his compulsory yelp was dispelled, he heard the sound of sharp footsteps approaching him.  
  


"Hearts are strange things, captain," Gold said, apparently now interested in talking. "They're fragile and full, but malleable too. I don't even really have anything to compare them to from our time. Maybe a sack of flour? No, too big. Perhaps a leather canteen? No, not weak enough."  
  


"I don't  **care**  what they're like," Killian growled, stuffing defiance into every last syllable. "What I want to know is what do you plan to do with  **mine**?"  
  


For his efforts, of course he was rewarded with another chuckle.  
  


Killian's thoughts for a moment shifted to Emma, her family, and Storybrooke at large. When he last checked the time on his phone, it was half past three. Even the most regular of patrons at The Rabbit Hole were likely asleep right now. Would this be when Rumple would have him strike to finish filling the hat with magic? Given the cowardly nature of that sinister plot, it would at the very least be fitting of such a mastermind like his crocodile.  
  


But Gold didn't seem to be thinking that. As Killian looked back up at the counter, the hat appeared to be nowhere in sight. And if the heat from behind him was any indication, his crocodile seemed to only be focused on him.  
  


Slowly, that heat began to feel hotter. His crocodile was approaching him from behind.  
  


"Right now? I want some  **fun**."  
  


Before Killian could demand that he elaborate, a burgundy swirl of magic surrounded him and seconds later, he was seated semi-comfortably in a simple wooden armrest-equipped chair.  
  


Instantly, Killian knew there was something to be worried about, but again, Gold beat him to any kind of response.  
  


"Stay," he commanded, with less dignity than Killian imagined Gold would grant a dog.  
  


And just like the obedient, unwilling dog he was, Killian obeyed. His eyes followed Gold as he walked back to that accursed counter of his. Killian was left wondering during his crocodile's brief absence just what horror that barrier between them was concealing.  
  


But one thing he knew for certain was that he'd soon find out and it wouldn't be good.  
  


As Gold made his way back to Killian, his right hand was conspicuously - definitely by design - behind his back. In the other hand, of course, was his heart, which he was delightedly giving regular gentle squeezes that were anything but gentle to Killian.  
  


"What's that you've got behind your back?" Killian murmured through the pain.  
  


"Something that you desperately want," Gold answered, coyly, or at least that's how Killian figured Gold imagined himself to be. "Now, why don't you be a good boy and hold those onto those armrests of yours nice and tight for me?"  
  


Killian obeyed the whim, his fingers digging into the wooden armrest until they ached. Even his brace jostled itself uncomfortably against his stump as he pushed his hook into the wooden armrest.  
  


As he perched on his chair, submissive to his crocodile's every want, he had to ask himself: Just what was Rumplestiltskin up to?  
  


If the smirk that was now etched across Gold's face was any indication, he was dying to let Killian know.  
  


Slowly, Gold pulled his hand out from behind his back.  
  


At a loss for how to react, Killian sat dumbstruck, looking in tense alarm as the unmistakable form of the Dark One's dagger was revealed to him.  
  


"My, my," Gold said in a tone that dripped with a level of vulgarity normally reserved for things most normal people would find infinitely more pleasurable.  
  


But of course, Rumplestitlskin was about as far from normal as Killian could hope for.  
  


There he went again - he and his stupid hopes.  
  


Gold brough the dagger closer to Killian, so that the blade ran parallel to his face. "How many nights have you stayed awake imagining a day like this?"  
  


'Too many' was the answer to that inquiry, but Killian could only narrow his eyes in sharp defiance of the dagger as Gold's teased him with its very presence.  
  


Slowly, while still keeping the dagger where it was, Gold moved behind Killian and looped the arm that held his heart around Killian's torso - Killian was willing to bet that Gold had a field day over that fact that he could quite clearly see his heart so close to him, but be unable to seize it from his crocodile's grasp.  
  


"How many  **died**  so that you could even have a chance at yielding the powers of the Dark One?"  
  


Once again, the only sufficient answer Killian could find within himself was 'too many.'  
  


He hated how often those two words applied when describing his life of piracy.  
  


Fortunately - or at least as fortunate as the circumstances allowed for - Gold didn't give him the opportunity to stew on such thoughts for long.  
  


"Yes, you've waited so long for a chance to get up close and personal to this dagger. Allow me to grant you that wish  **fully**."  
  


Suddenly, Gold's command for Killian to willingly restrain his hand and hook made sense. It wasn't just a means of forcing him to watch as his desires dangled in front of him while he was useless to claim either of them.  
  


No, what Rumplestiltskin had in store for him was far worse than that...  
  


As the reality of what was likely about to befall him settled in, and with the swiftness of a decorated warrior, Gold plunged the dagger into Killian's right side.  
  


To call the fallout agonizing would be putting it mildly.  
  


The tip of the blade rushed along on its journey, ripping through Killian's skin and clanging successfully against his bones. And despite how quickly it all started, Killian felt every little cut that shot through his body.  
  


Even outside of the pain, the affair was just as mortifying to look at. He could feel blood flowing out of his right hip and could make out the growing pool of red just out of the corner of his eye. Instinctually, his right leg convulsed in ways Killian hadn't even expected to be possible at the first sight of the pain, jerking around in an attempt to ward off some of the unwavering shock, completely unsuccessfully. A violent thrust that delved deeper into the area poked against what was most certainly an organ. It made Killian's stomach churn in a way that felt like one of those washing machines he'd seen at Granny's. His fingers and hook, not allowed to move, clung further into the armrests of the chair and his torso pushed against Rumple's arm.  
  


And as if to make matters worse, Gold - making no secret of the matter - maintained his squeezes of his heart at the same steady rhythm he had started at when this all began.  
  


And Killian, helpless to do anything else in the wake of all of this, screamed bloody murder.  
  


Well, half of that sentiment was correct, at least.  
  


No, Rumplestitlskin couldn't murder him just yet if his earlier promise was to be believed, but he was doing everything in his power to make this torture  **feel**  like murder.  
  


Killian hated to admit how successful his crocodile was in that regard.  
  


His own screams had begun to feel borderline deafening. Killian had shot many a pistol in his day, and felt the effects of all of them as they plagued his ears for those first few moments afterwards, and that was the closest comparison for how he felt now.  
  


However, those gunshots' effects were only for a few seconds at the most. This had been going on for well over the better half of a minute with no sign of slowing down.  
  


Killian once again put forward a vein hope in his mind - it may have been early, but that very lack of activity that allowed him to get here unsighted could also work in his favor as a contrast.  
  


People didn't live too far from this shop. Granny's in fact was only about a block or two away.  
  


Maybe there was a chance someone could hear his screams. Even if he couldn't reveal that his heart had been stolen, a random witness of Gold's cruelty  **could**.  
  


Gold must've considered that he'd think of that, for as he continued to spin the dagger around his flesh, he whispered into Killian's ear from behind him.  
  


"Scream all you'd like,  **dearie** ," he said. "I've soundproofed this shop, just for you."  
  


Stupid hopes…  
  


Seemingly satisfied with the damage he had done to Killian's side, Rumple pulled out the dagger - with an excruciatingly slow pull that dragged against the bottom part of Killian's flesh - from his hip.  
  


Killian wanted to snidely ask if he was done upon feeling Gold withdraw his hold on him, but upon hearing items shift in his hands, he knew this wasn't about to end so soon.  
  


Gold once again secured his clasp around Killian's torso, but this time, with his right arm surrounding his torso with his heart while his left arm clung to the dagger. Killian almost wanted to laugh at how tightly Gold held onto the blade. From the little Killian could make out from the corner of his eye, his veins were completely visible.  
  


"Scared of losing that dagger of yours again, aren't you?" Killian grit.  
  


Without missing a beat, Gold answered.  
  


"To you? Not a chance."  
  


Killian could only picture what he'd do in kind for this if things were reversed.  
  


However, once again, Gold didn't give Killian the moments to think on the matter much before plunging the dagger back into him.  
  


This time, Gold attacked his outer thigh, just a bit behind Killian's left knee.  
  


It didn't take long for the blood to entirely cover his lap, staining his pants in an ocean of crimson.  
  


The pain felt different this time - not less by any stretch, but different. The splitting of his skin and muscle tissue was more directly hurt, rather than just rode by as it was with his hip. While his left leg, just like his right leg had, started convulsing when Gold started thrusting the dagger into him, but didn't do so for long. As a matter of fact, it stopped moving altogether. Had Gold ruptured a nerve?  
  


It certainly felt that way as his muscles continued to be pummeled by the force of the blade.  
  


The sounds that came out of him were different this time too, his screams holding more of a lower pitched tone.  
  


But for as bad as this was, it got worse when Gold reached Killian's femur.  
  


Gold may not have ever been the strongest man, but as he pushed the dagger into the bone, Killian could believe for a moment that perhaps he was. There was an unrelenting shove of pressure, one made all the worse when Gold started to taking to thrusting the dagger up and down his flesh, hitting his bone like a blacksmith hit a piece of metal.  
  


And it didn't escape him how the thrusts ended up keeping time with the squeezes of his heart. If anything, the squeezes quickened as to keep up with the thrusts.  
  


Then, Killian felt a splitting sensation...only not through his skin…  
  


Now in a state of horror, Killian realized exactly what was about to happen.  
  


"NO! NO!  **NO!** " Killian cried, over and over and over again at ever increasing volumes as his crocodile began to crack the bone beneath him.  
  


"Oh, yes," Gold muttered into his ear. Despite being unable to see his face, Killian could  **feel** his grin and the amusement in his eyes through the heat of his stare.  
  


Killian's torso shuddered under the feeling. Reeling, he tried to pull against Rumple's arm, not even in hopes of anything specific like escaping, but because he couldn't just do nothing - his body wouldn't allow him. Still, it was a moot effort. Without the use of his hand or hook, he remained trapped, watching helplessly as his body slowly yet somehow still violently were being destroyed.  
  


Tears fell like rain, splattering against the blood on his shin bone. He had held back like a trooper so far, but this was too much - the pain, the degradation, the fear.  
  


As Killian's femur completely broke open, the remnants of it splintered across his nerves and skin. While there may have only been one dagger in his body, the splinters from his femur made Killian feel like there were a million knives in there.  
  


The screams, now too exhausting to keep on coming out, dissolved into airy groaning howls, with his tears not letting up even for a second.  
  


Killian had seldom used the word 'pathetic' to describe himself - he had other less than kind words to use instead - but right now, he found no other word as to be quite so fitting. Here he was - weak, humiliated, and deprived of all bodily autonomy.  
  


"That was nice," Gold sighed, his voice as serene as an oceanic view as his index finger caressed Killian's chest. His dagger-held hand wiped itself over Killian face, removing some of the blood from it, and giving Killian a gash by his lip in the process. Killian was sure the thought of cleaning that hand with magic had crossed Gold's mind, especially seeing as how he hadn't removed close to all of it by any stretch, but he clearly found this to be the more fun way of getting the job done.  
  


"You'll pay for this," Killian grit, fighting against the meek image he was undoubtedly presenting his rival with.  
  


"We'll see about that," Gold replied simply, before finally withdrawing himself from Killian entirely and disappearing into his shop's backroom.  
  


Immediately, Killian fell to the floor with his chair alongside him. Soon, his howls settled and went away, and before long, the only sound he made was the harsh sound of his breathing and the occasional sob as he tried to salvage his way around his wounds. Half an hour passed like that and Killian started to imagine this to be the end of his suffering...but he also wondered if it was the end of  **him**  completely?  
  


What could he do now? His left leg had stopped moving and his right leg was in no shape to carry his weight. He couldn't leave this place and he knew Gold knew that too.  
  


Would this be it? Would Gold just keep him in this state until whenever he needed to kill him? Would he never have a chance to see Emma and tell her the truth - or even tell her goodbye? It wasn't that far fetched an idea. Gold said when he first obtained Killian's heart that he wanted to have fun before killing him and while disturbing beyond belief for virtually anyone else, Gold  **had**  found that ordeal fun.  
  


Surprisingly though, as Gold reappeared with a bucket, a mop, and Killian's heart in his hands, that didn't appear to be the case.  
  


Gold crouched down to Killian and with a slow wave of his hand over Killian's form and that charmless smirk still across his face, he began healing him.  
  


Killian, speechless, watched his crocodile as he performed his magic.  
  


As his hand passed over Killian's body, Killian saw the injuries that brought him to the point of relentless tears mere moments ago painlessly disappear in seconds. Even his clothes were cleaned during the process.  
  


When it was done, Killian carefully rose, testing the truth of this healing with Gold shortly following. Upon realizing that his body was truly safe once more, he nodded, taking it in before turning to face Gold.  
  


"Why?" That was all Killian could ask.  
  


Gold grinned, patting Killian on the shoulder. "While it  **is**  a better look on you, you're no use to me either dead or beaten - at least, not just yet." Killian clenched his jaw and Gold only chuckled in response. "No," he continued, "I still need you to help me get my supply of magic. Of course, I can do it on my own, but why dirty my hands when you've got one to spare?"  
  


"Well, I'd have two, but you deprived me of the second - twice," Killian shot back, glaring. Gold's chuckle grew.  
  


"Either way, you'll come in  **hand-y**  for me soon enough, but for right now, as I said, I wanted to have some fun. So thank you."  
  


"Glad to be of service," Killian said, his voice coated with sarcasm.  
  


"In that case, why not be a lamb and clean up your blood from the floor?" Gold rose his hand holding Killian's heart as to signify that this request was in no way optional.  
  


"Why can't you do it yourself?" Killian asked, already going for the mop and bucket against his will. "You got it off of me just fine without even breaking a sweat."  
  


"That's true, but why bring our fun to an end so soon?"  
  


Killian didn't honor the remark with a response and silently got to work. Gold sat behind his counter, grinning as he watched Killian toil.  
  


After an hour's work cleaning up, Killian finished and the pawn shop's floor was as spotless as when he came in.  
  


Just as he finished, a final hope occurred to him. It was early and while Gold still looked quite pleased with himself, it wasn't all that he looked. The hours were waning on Gold just as badly as they were on him.  
  


Maybe, if he was careful with how he left…  
  


"And Hook?" Gold commented just as he was on his way out. Killian didn't answer his question, but stayed still as he looked at his heart across the seemingly vast expanse of the room. "Make sure you keep this little rendez-vous we had just between us."  
  


...He and his stupid hopes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you feel so inclined, why not throw a little review my way? They build strong bones! 
> 
> (Disclaimer: There is no proven correlation between reviews and strong bones)


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